


Bandaids

by lostdragonbeliever



Category: Tales of Arcadia (Cartoons), Trollhunters, Trollhunters (Cartoon)
Genre: As slowburn as my short attention span can handle, Depression, Each Chapter will be updated with appropriate warning tags, Everyone is GayTM as well, Fights, Injury, Language, M/M, Magic System? We Rewriting Her, Multi, Rarepair HellTM, Relationship Struggles, Rivals to Lovers, Twisty emotions more and more as we go, We on that Character Development Juice, also claire's a big lesbian we should get that clear right out of the gate, as much as I can, endless pining, eventual: - Freeform, for everyone, injury descriptions, platonic stricklake
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-13
Updated: 2020-06-28
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:20:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22237747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lostdragonbeliever/pseuds/lostdragonbeliever
Summary: (Or How to Go From Rivals to Friends to Lovers in Dire Situations)It's difficult, being sixteen and dealing with troll-hunting-related injuries on your own. With a bit of strange luck though, an old rival offers help in a moment of need. Nobody was around to warn them about catching feelings though.-A Steve joins the Trollhunters fic. Lots of pining, messy feelings, and bandages follow.
Relationships: Aaarrrgghh/Blinkous "Blinky" Galadrigal, Jim Lake Jr. & Claire Nuñez, Jim Lake Jr./Steve Palchuk, Steve Palchuk & Claire Nuñez, Steve Palchuk & Toby Domzalski, Toby Domzalski & Claire Nuñez, Toby Domzalski & Jim Lake Jr. & Claire Nuñez
Comments: 29
Kudos: 82





	1. (Original One-Shot) The Unofficial Start

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This was originally a one off drabble for a series, but I and many friends loved the idea so much, its being continued! Slowly but surely, this fic will be completed, granting writer's block doesn't kick my ass first.
> 
> -
> 
> First chapter originally posted May 27th, 2018. All following chapters are new.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -No warning tags
> 
> UPDATE: This chapter is no longer a part of the fic- it simply doesn't flow into the story. It is the original one-shot that inspired its own fic, consider it as such. Next chapter is the legitimate start.

The clanking of his friend’s armor disturbed his studying-well, _half_ studying.

Jim flopped onto Steve's bed, armor de-materializing as he sighed. Steve rolled his eyes. "So, are you going to bleed out onto my bed or am I going to have to patch you up again?" There was a muffled snort from Jim.

"Alright. You seem to have a knack for wanting to let me keep my bodily fluids inside me."

"Of course. I just changed the sheets."

* * *

Steve heard the stiff groans all the way from the supply closet, suggesting much more damage than he could fix with just some band aids. Still, he came to him (he still didn’t know why he did it the first time, let alone kept doing so).

He placed down the medical kit on the bed between them. Steve opened it up to rolls of cotton swathe and antibacterial gel; stuff that made his nose wrinkle.

“Alright Lake. What’s number one?”

“I think my wrist. I- landed on it weird.”

Steve hummed a bit, pressing gently onto it, freezing when a hiss and Jim pulled away his hand reflexively.

“Yeah, I’d say so…What did you do to it this time?”

Jim chuckled awkwardly as the other teen started wrapping his wrist. “Training turned to rogue troll incident, and I tried to land on my shoulder. Didn’t work out.”

Steve swallowed a scoff. “Ah...sounds fun?”

Jim raised a brow, before making a half smile. “We have different definitions of fun, Steve.”

“Very true, and yet, you come here knowing Dr. Palchuk’s track record.”

Jim stayed silent for a moment. Steve took it for an end of conversation, and reached for the tape to tie it all off. Where was it again-

“Maybe I just enjoy the company.”

He just about dropped the tape roll.

“Wh-what? C’mon Lake, did you hurt more than your head? I’m seriously asking!” Steve cursed silently as the roll fell onto the floor and under the bed. It had been a long time since cleaning under there, so he wasn’t eager to stick his arm in and feel for the tape. Jim, on the bed and holding the end of the swathe on his wrist, shifted to face him easier.

“No! At least none I know of.”

Dust bunny, extra spray paint (just in case), old jersey-

“Steve, I know we got off on the wrong foot long ago, but, I do want to...hang out. More than you just fixing me up.”

Steve raised his eyebrows. “Oh really now…”

“Yeah.”

Victory! The tape roll was picked back from under the depths of the bed, and Steve returned to the side of the bed. He didn’t look Jim in the face though, in thought. He did start taping the end of his handiwork.

“...you sure you’d be up for that? I mean, we’ve never been more than just rivals.”

Steve looked up at Jim’s face for a moment, and stayed there. A drying nosebleed stained a deep crimson line, a bruise here and there, but the smile was as genuine as could be.

“After all, I don’t let just anyone fix me up. Honor is all yours, Palchuk.”

* * *

“And remember to lay off doing stuff with the wrist for a while. Don’t want it to get worse do you?”

“Not a bit.”

“Good. I really don’t want to fix it again.”

Jim laughed.


	2. A Late Night Introduction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -Minor injury description

Sometimes Jim wished he could lay down in the grass and stare up into the stars, he thought for a moment before wincing. The magic metal of the armor kept him upright, still running on ending adrenaline. If the armor fell ... a big mess, honestly.

“Hey,” Claire’s hand rested on his back, her face hard to see in the dark.

“You’re not looking too good. You’ve got to get some rest.”

Toby’s hammer light up some dull light, careful not to attract anything to their romp in the woods at 3 AM. 

“Not to be blunt, but you probably got a little more beat up than usual, Jimbo. We gotta take care of that first.”

“Fair enough, but where? It’s not like the trolls know how to heal a human.”

Jim’s mind drifted as he swayed a little in place. Claire and Toby shot ideas back and forth as his shoulder remained a sharp ache, a few other injuries seeming quieter now. 

“-can’t take him to Mrs. Lake, she’d be-!”

“-ay, then who else?”

Well, there was one person who could help. Discreet, and from looking at the closest lamppost, it wasn’t far. 

“...hey.”

“First, ew, come on- yeah, Jim?”

The amulet clicked a half rotation. _Tell them_.

“There’s uh, there’s someone I know. That can help. And they- they know.” Metal fingertip taps on the amulet as its glow fades a little.

Toby looks like he’d been doused with cold water, while Claire flicks her staff back into its sheath. 

“Hold on, hold on, hold on! You’re saying that you’ve got some healing friend that knows, and we haven’t met them yet?” Toby’s face becomes washed in blue as he faces Jim, who shuffles in his spot. 

“You’ve met them! Its- its just…” Strange? Weird? Personal?

Unwarranted warmth ran along his face, hoping it wasn’t visible in the low light. “ _Complicated_ , to say the least.”

Claire, in her quiet thoughts, whips herself back around to the both of her teammates. Nodding, she straightened her jacket, which had gained some new holes.

“Well, if anything, it wouldn’t be pretty waking up tomorrow to how much of a mess we probably look like. Let’s get you fixed up, Jim.”

-

Grasping Jim’s hand in hers, Claire commanded the shadow staff to unfold, as it always did. She heard its telltale clacking, before looking to her friends.

“Now, I can only take us so far. As long as you remember the exact spot we need to be, we’ll be fine! ...probably.”

“I don’t know if I liked that last part.” Toby chimed in, holding onto Jim’s other hand. His job was to make sure no one collapsed on the way there, not to name any names.

“Well, we’re going to have to live with ‘probably’ for now.” Catching Jim’s gaze, she held up her staff into a clear patch.  
“You’re the only one who knows the place we’re going, so you’ve got to remember as clear as you can. Then, just visualize that we walk forward, and…”

The memory of the backyard that had become a last lap to a finishing line of late night patchups came flooding back, fresh as ever. It came as easy as daydreaming, before stepping through...

  
  
  


The square of suburbian cut grass made a slightly softer landing than the concrete slab of a porch three feet to their left. Sitting on his knees in the grass, Jim took a deep breath as he stood up, locating the window of choice. 

He heard Toby’s breath hitch before he saw the faint light inside the house; in unison the three teenagers hauled ass over underneath the nearest window, avoiding the beam of kitchen lights. 

A muffled voice, sounding like an older woman? Calling out to someone else in the house, the light finally turning off after what felt like forever and a half.

It was another dreadfully long moment before the trio felt fine enough to move from their scrunched positions. Claire dropped her head back against the siding, puffing her cheeks in an annoyed breath.

“One of these days, someone’s going to see me and wonder what I’m doing running around in the dark with you idiots.”

Toby forced a smirk, falling back down on the grass. “You love us, admit it.”

Claire barked a loud laugh, drawing up a hand to her chin. “Oh, _moi?_ ”

Being cheeky in someone’s yard at midnight was interrupted by a window shoved open and a barely awake Steve Palchuk’s head came out. 

“If it's the raccoon again, I’m going to lose my f- uuuuhhhh…” 

Three things happened at once: Jim’s armor dematerialized, Claire blinked widely, and Toby whispered a few strings of creative curse words. 

Steve himself looked a lot less comfortable immediately, looking like he’d rather be doing almost anything else than dealing with three classmates in his yard. Running a hand through his hair, his lamp illuminated face peered down at Jim, who had a growing pained smile. 

“...trollfighting again? I thought we talked about this last time.”

“Eh, troll _hunting_ , but same thing.”

“Really? How big?”

“About the size of a truck.”

“Like Uhl’s?”

“Exactly!”

Steve made a low whistle, propping his head on his elbow. “That’s a big one.” Then remembering the other two teens suddenly, he straightened up, before lowering a hand down to Jim and sighing.

“Come on. Let’s get you fixed up.”

His brown eyes focused on Toby and Claire, a few feet away with equally apprehensive body language.

“And I guess an explanation for you guys.” A yawn. “I’ve got a test tomorrow, let’s not make it longer than needed.”


	3. The Flashback Episode

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After getting patched up, explanations of the strange arrangement come to light.

Toby stood leaning against the side wall, closest to the window he could get without seeming  _ too _ rude. 

Well, it wasn’t like he cared if he was rude. The only reason he was civil in his class bully’s bedroom was because apparently, Jim had been making doctor’s visits. 

It was a weird twisty feeling, making his chest lock up and his ears hot. In all their years, as friends, as teammates, now as Trollhunters, it felt so foreign to know that Jim had kept a secret  _ this big  _ from him. Done who knows what after their missions- god, how long had he said he was fine, pretended to go home, and came here, instead?

Did he not trust Toby enough to really tell him how he was?

A hiss drew him from his thoughts, as Steve, ever careful, tried rolling up part of the torn blue jacket that looked closer to a shredded wet rag. Instinct made Toby tense, but before the brunette could move,  _ he _ was already there.

“Short breaths- deep ones’ll just aggravate it.” Steve leaned to reach for a pair of scissors, before finding an edge to start cutting away. “Sorry, but this one will have to be retired.”

Swiveling around in her chair, Claire’s eyes hardened. Toby noted how her hand curled around her staff’s handle, heels bouncing rapidly. “Hey, you’re gonna need a shirt, then. Do you want me to go, and…?” 

Jim, biting his lip in order to avoid making noise, stared down at the floor. 

“Yeah, yeah- Toby, could you go with her-”  
Replying, “On it,” Toby joined Claire’s side, pushing away any conflicted feelings for now.

Looking up at them, Steve working away at methodically snipping away the ruined shirt, the trollhunter nodded. “Thanks. You know where I keep my things.”

It felt better, being able to leave the awkward atmosphere for a moment; just to grab a shirt, but still.

Claire was close to firing up a portal when he noticed the blonde teen had stopped on Jim’s back and was staring up at the staff. In a way, it was kind of a funny expression.

Steve cleared his throat, turning back to his medical kit. “S-sorry, just uh. Not used to seeing the magic stuff really yet. It’s kinda … cool.”

Claire looked a little lost for words, mumbling out a ‘thanks’ before grabbing Toby’s hand and jumping through a new portal.

  
  
  


The moment that the portal closed up, Steve let out a low groan, hands dragging down the side of his face. This wasn’t the way he’d imagined meeting Jim’s teammates: in the dark and fresh from a fight. Also after barely falling asleep himself. Great. Drawn out of thought by a humored snort, he tapped the antibiotic cream tube against Jim’s neck.

“What’s so funny?”

“ _ You _ .” He straightened up as much as possible, pulling an exaggerated awestruck face. “It’s kinda…  _ cool _ .”

“Oh shut up, doctor’s orders.” As much fun as bantering was, Steve had to readjust his focus. As hardy as the armor was, sometimes it fell, and it was no use for protecting thin human skin. Swallowing a lump in his throat, he managed to cut away the remaining piece of shirt, and motioned for Jim to sit up.

Fishing out a bag from under his bed, it took a moment to peel off the remaining sweaty t-shirt. Making a face while tying up the bag, he stuck his tongue out at the flopped over on the chair Jim.

“ _ Disgustang _ .”

“You said it. I can’t tell you how many shirts I’ve had to rewash.”

“Trust me,” Steve motioned to a half open cabinet drawer, containing multiple jerseys and types of padding. “I know the feeling.”

Leaning out of the window, he swung the bag back and forth a few times before letting it fly, a near perfect shot into a garbage can.

What little of a smile fell, Steve gripping on the edge of the windowsill as he mulled over the past hour of events. 

Voice quiet, he faced back into his room, locking the window shut. “If anything, a little warning next time would be great. Maybe a heads up text? ‘I’m beat up and bringing friends. Have snacks ready.’”

Jim, arms wrapped around the chair back, propped up his chin in hand. “I’ll bring the snacks, if anything, thank you.”

He hummed in half hearted agreement. Putting away his medical kit was muscle memory, letting each others backs face.

It was a long moment, Jim focusing on breathing and Steve putting away his equipment, before either said anything.

“Hey...Jim?”

A reply was cut off as a similar portal like before spawned in the same corner of the room, Toby with a sweater firmly in his arms.

“Interrupt anything?” Claire questioned, eyes shifting cautiously.

Steve perked up, eyeing the floor as it seemed  _ most _ interesting. “No. Just talking. But uh, Jim just had some minor scrapes, looked messy but wasn’t anything too deadly, so he’ll be fine.”

Leaning back to catch the corner of Jim’s vision, he crossed his arms, and made an ‘I’m looking at you’ gesture. “Don’t push it though.”

Pulling down the rest of the sweater, a deep green with a campsite logo, the dark haired teen put a hand over his heart, and snuck a small smile. “I make no promises.”

  
  
  


_ ‘So uh, guess I should explain how this whole situation started, huh?’ _

_ ‘That’d be good, yeah.’ Toby replied crossly. _

_ ‘Well, I was going home from studying with Seamus and a couple other friends…’ _

The only sounds were from buzzing streetlights, and the hum of Steve’s vespa. Lots of time to think...wasn’t his favorite, but his phone was dead, so no music. He’d give anything even just to not have to dwell on the concerns just under the surface.

His wish was oddly granted, as a faint sound made Steve pull his moped to a stop. Craning his neck, he could almost make it out. It sounded like someone was going on a late night run in metal boots, and another moment before he also heard what sounded like a small stampede of- well, he couldn’t tell what it was. It just sounded fast, and coming closer by the second.

Last thing Steve Palchuk, going home after a late night study session, was to see not only his classmate- coincidentally, the same one that had stood up to him and punched out a tooth- but to also see him in what looked like incredibly pristine metal armor, was it glowing? Running, frantic almost, down the road, before he finally saw them.

A large group of seething mad creatures the size of Chihuahua’s and twice as mad were chasing him. Green, with glowing eyes, and _chasing_ _Jim_. 

God, any feeling of resentment could be figured out later. He could tell when someone needed out of a situation pronto, and he’d fired up the motor as fast as he could. Revving it to catch Jim’s attention- the strangest look crossed over his face as he recognized the driver- he yelled out a command, “GET ON!”

No sooner than after Jim near jumped onto the backseat, the vespa launched forward. Tearing past the nearest corner, he glanced back to get a glimpse at whatever aggressive mongrels were chasing them. Nothing good, as a street sign toppled over from the mere stress of force.

“What the hell are those? Gremlins? Mutated feral cats?”

Jim sputtered, before snapping back. “I can’t explain now! Later! Just make sure that you keep going! I’ll deal with the rest!”

“What do you mean-?” Steve couldn’t think of what to say next before a flare of light materialized- a large sword, like a sharp mirror, quickly flung backwards with a heave of force. The vespa lurched with the throw, both boys gritting their teeth as they slid into the next street. Daylight hit its mark, a furious stream of water spawning from a hydrant blocked off the path for a majority of the stampede.   
A short while away, Steve spotted a hiding place. Going up to top speed, before slamming the brake, he swung the moped with momentum against the side of a garage sharply. It hit against the siding, Steve slapping one hand against Jim’s mouth, and the other in a quiet shushing motion. 

The rapid sounds of pattering feet swarmed past, and he waited a few minutes before daring to breathe again. 

What had just happened, was beyond his understanding. Giant swords forming from nothing, whatever those creepers had been chasing them, Jim.

Oh god. Jim was sitting behind him, on his vespa. It wasn’t long after the whole incident with the freaky giant bird thing- he would no doubt still have a grudge. He still had to deal with whatever  _ that _ would entail.

Straightening up, Steve turned back around to face the music, before freezing up. 

Jim had edged off of the seat, and the illuminated metal seemed to dissipate with a quiet glow, before he fell down against the side of the garage. Out of breath, and looking exhausted, but no visible damage.

Pulling off his helmet, Steve kneeled down beside him. It felt weird, doing this, but any feeling against him was pushed down, buried.

“Hey hey hey, are you alright?”

Jim flinched, eyes wild and bright from adrenaline. A thin dribble of blood started to run down his lip. 

“I… I’m fine. Peachy.” His head fell back against the wall, chest heaving hard.   
Steve almost laughed. Snarkily, he replied, “No you’re not. You were just chased by whatever kind of vicious creeps those were, and for god knows how long before I got you out if it-”

“I didn’t  _ ask _ for your help.” Jim snarled, before attempting to push himself up, before falling back down with a grunt. If anything, it looked like he’d rather burn out what energy he had left than stay here another moment with him.

“...” Steve sighed. He didn’t sign up for this. He could just grab his vespa and motor away, leaving him to stumble home on his own. Some inner voice said it’d be the best choice. Something smaller suggested otherwise.

“Well,” Running a tongue over his teeth, Steve picked up his helmet. Glancing at the streetlight’s dull yellow glow, then back at the small form of his classmate. 

“Either you can walk home, and possibly get caught up in those things finding you again…”

Hesitantly, he put out an open hand. 

“Or, I can help you.”

Jim looked shellshocked, staring up at him with dark circles under his eyes and fatigue setting in. Wringing his hands in thought, he puffed up his lower lip.

“Why do you want to help me? Don’t you hate me?”

Steve’s hand faltered, as he looked down at his shoes. Why  _ did _ he?

A small voice deep inside replied.  _ ‘Because...if you had someone to help you before, wouldn’t you have wanted that?’ _

Yes. 

‘ _ Deep down, there’s a reason. There’s something about this that seems familiar, that could make sense if you help him.’  _

Once more, he put out a hand. “Maybe before. I definitely didn’t like you after punching out my tooth.”

Jim snorted. “If you’re asking for an apology for that, I’m not giving one.”

“I’m not asking for one. I’m  _ trying _ to tell you, that something’s changed. I don’t care about that now. I’m- I want to help. You. With whatever that was.”

“Oh no no no!” Jim braced himself, pulling up from the ground and onto the edge of the moped seat. He crossed his arms, adding, “No! You’re going to forget this happened, and we drift apart, forgetting that this whole interaction even happened!”

“Oh what? Like I’m just going to go to bed, knowing now that  _ those things _ ! Are out there! And pretend everything’s  **_fine_ ** ? Are you serious? And you, what about you huh?”

His eyebrows furrowed together. Jim crossed his feet. “What about me?”

“How long has this been going on!” Steve felt the telltale rush of warmth run along his face, frustration building. He pushed,  _ forced _ that emotion into his words. “How long have you been running around in the dark, fighting those things? All alone too! It was lucky enough I was there, but what if I wasn’t?”

“I-I would’ve-”

“What would you have done? Kept running until you couldn’t anymore? Did you even have a plan?”

“I was figuring it out!”  
“Bullshit!” Steve barked out, “What was your grand plan? Get chased, keep running, get hurt? That’s not a plan! That’s being an idiot!”

“Do you think I don’t KNOW THAT?” Jim exclaimed, bursting from the seat and getting up and personal with Steve Palchuk. His face lit up in the street light, as he continued. “Do you think I don’t know how unfair this is? It’s not like I chose it!”

For once, Steve didn’t have a smart remark or insult. He couldn’t. He knew these feelings, the ones contorting Jim Lake Jr’s face into a frustrated pent up rage.   
“No...you didn’t.”

The snarl in his face, fierce and sharp, lost its edge. It fell, sighing deeply.

“You didn’t choose this.” Steve continued softly. “You didn’t choose it at all. But, you can either not care, keep running on no ideas… or let others help you. Please.”

It took a moment for Jim’s slow nod to register, and it finally allowed Steve to take a new breath.

“...okay, then. I uh, don’t know how to end this. Can you get home okay?” 

“Yeah, uh. It’s a street over, I should be fine.”

Steve nodded, before putting a hand up. “Here, gimme your phone.”  
“What?! Why?”  
“Well, my phone’s dead, and just in case, I’m going to give you my number. You owe me an explanation. Or if you get chased by those… things, again.”  
Shrugging, the smaller teen muttered, “They’re _goblins_ ,” before handing over his phone with some hesitation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyo! This update came fast, but seeing as I was hyped up and wrote this chapter over the course of the last few days, the next chapters won't come as fast, but they ARE coming.
> 
> -No warning tags


	4. Flashback Episode: Electric Boogaloo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The day after finding out about Jim Lake Jr's secret night life (spoiler, contains swords), he and Steve have a conversation in a familiar location.
> 
> -Mentions of shitty dads

Jim’s thumb hovered over the contact. It really shouldn’t be this hard to do this, but the familiar feeling spread an icy warning down his spine. 

_He’s going to find out. He’s going to learn and then turn it into some kind of blackmail, or threaten that information for something else-_

No, he had to remind himself. The way that the previous night had gone, it was definitely not what he had expected. Steve had- well, surprised him. Jim expected him to fire up his vespa and book it away from the whole mess, maybe taunt him later for it. But no.

The whole school day felt off. There wasn’t any looming threats over his shoulder, and if anything, he thought he was one of Steve’s teammates notice him and pointedly avoid him. God knew what, but Jim needed to handle it as soon as possible, before any other mission interfered.

It really wasn’t that hard of a message to send. Meeting outside of school, in a quieter location would be best; easiest to explain things in too. He’d picked an older diner that was always incredibly slow during the middle of the week. Jim just had to actually find the gall to go for it.

The contact was left open from second period all the way till lunch. It wasn’t like it was a hard idea to process, just the strange feeling all around it.

Steve Palchuk. A hard guy to pin down, but it wasn’t like he tried before. Their friend groups never fell together, and some sort of changes happened, resulting in their weird dynamic. Jim and Toby would do their best to avoid conflict, and Steve along with his group wouldn’t initiate it unless there was something fun in it. 

He hated to admit it, but there really was something out of the ordinary. Jim, in all his years being in Steve’s peripheral, had never seen the kind side he’d witnessed the night before. It was strange, and a little uncomfortable, but something, deep down… it felt genuine.

A message was finally sent just after lunch ended. Hopefully, this wouldn’t end up being the biggest mistake in his current high school career.

Steve stared long and hard at the message. He read it, again and again, before it finally sunk it. He had secretly hoped last night was a weird fever dream, but given Lake’s text, it was more than real. 

The whole thing was starting to become a headache.

Avoiding the general presence of Jim and his friends most of the day was hard enough. Telling some of his friends to lay off when they asked about his new behaviour was definitely uncomfortable, but risking what little of an olive branch was extended, Steve would rather be safe than sorry.

_( Hey, its Jim. If you still want an explanation, meet me at Charlotte’s Diner after school. ) (Sent: 12:53 pm)_

Odd choice of place, but basketball practice was postponed, and he wasn’t needed anywhere else…

-

The vespa clicked off with the last shudder of the engine. A bell rang softly as Steve entered warily, helmet grasped firmly in a tense fist. He was greeted almost immediately of the smell of strong coffee and lemon floor polish, nose wrinkling. 

It took him a few moments to spot the only other patron, besides an older couple chatting at the counter, sitting in a back corner booth by the window. As he walked closer, a few papers were spread out, a notebook scrawled into with thin handwriting that honestly looked like chicken scratch to Steve.

“Oh, you came.” Drawn out of his thoughts, he finally met Jim’s eyes. They were almost surprised, a few other emotions he didn’t have enough time to recognize flitting by.

“What, did you think I’d be a no show?”

“No, I just thought maybe… nevermind. C’mon, we have a lot to talk about.” He sighed, pulling the papers closer and gesturing to the opposite side of the booth.

Oh boy, Steve thought, sitting down. This was going to be, like the rest of the last twenty four hours, _weird_.

-

“...So, I do have a few questions first.”

Jim leaned forward slightly. He’d checked over the diner as much as he could; but there was always good sense in trying to be a little secretive. 

“Alright, shoot.”

Bringing up a multi-fingered hand, Steve ticked off the first one.

“That crazy bird thing a week ago?”  
He hummed. “Turns out an old assassin guy was trying to kill me via giant stone troll. Next?” 

Steve was already looking dumbfounded, but he continued. “Was the horseshoe to my head also because of this kinda thing?”

“Yeah…” Jim grimanced. Come to think of it, a lot of Trollhunter’s related business ended up harming his classmate. Whoops.

“Aaaand the armor ... hold on. Hold _on!”_

The blonde teen took a moment to lean back in his booth seat, brows knitting together like puzzle pieces snapping into place.

When he finally looked back at Jim Lake Jr., he almost had… a smile on his face. 

“The armor! You wore it to the play auditions, didn’t you?”

Oh boy. What a _wonderful_ reminder, he thought, dragging a hand down his face as Steve looked for his answer.

“Yup. That was, like, right after I got the armor, and it was still reacting weird and spontaneously appearing. Toby thought it was quite fitting.”

A burst of quiet laughter made Steve’s shoulders shake, crossing his arms as he processed the information. 

“You wore it. To the practices too, well- the ones you made, but still!”

Wrinkling his nose, Jim shot back, “Glad you find it hilarious,” before an older woman, one of the waitresses, approached the table.

“Hey boys! Would you like to order anything, or are y’all set for today?”

Jim shook his head. “Thank you, but we’re all good.”

Steve was about to agree, before looking up at the waitress’ face, and stalling for a moment, recognizing something. “Hey, Laura. It’s nice to see you.”

A few seconds passed as she squinted through her thick glasses, before a large grin split up her face. 

“Steve! Oh, good to see you, kiddo! Hey, I’ve got to get heading out soon, but tell your mom I said hello, alright?”

The teen smiled back and promised, before the waitress patted the back of his shoulder, making her way back into the kitchen doors. 

Jim’s gaze was stuck on the half focused profile, golden afternoon light shining through the large windows and making every corner, every crease highlighted. He opened his mouth to break the silence before thinking too hard about the budding feeling somewhere deep in his chest.

“You know her?”

Humming softly, Steve didn’t look back at him. Lost for words, he seemed for a moment. If Jim looked carefully, when he finally turned back around to face him, over the table in a comfortable lean, his eyes weren’t just brown. Warm light made them become a rich, earthy color; like the mahogany of his mother’s coffee table. 

“My mom used to take me here a lot. She liked when they used to…” Steve almost stopped, face scrunching slightly in memory. “She’d have me use up whatever quarters she had, she saved them in a jar at home, and we’d come here, and play as many songs in the jukebox as much as we could. I swear a few times, Laura there would’ve kicked us out if we didn’t stop sometimes.”

A soft smile formed across his face, as memories flew by. 

Infectiously, Jim felt a similar smile mirror on his face. Something about the way Steve talked, voice quiet but strong. There was no tension, no wound up anger or energy. Everything was calmer, too. Like he was allowed to finally experience a small piece of the more real and raw version. The warmth of the sun’s last rays couldn’t beat this feeling, and Jim Lake Jr. wanted to feel it forever. 

“That sounds so nice.”

“...yeah. It was.” The corners of his mouth fell, the light in his eyes fading. “It’s been so long since I’ve been back here. My, my _dad_ , ah. He doesn’t like this place much, so we stopped a couple years ago.”

Jim had never met either of Steve’s parents. Once or twice, he’d seen a glimpse of what he’d guessed was his mom, at one of the bigger basketball games last year. He’d almost been surprised by the resemblance. Same hair, same nose. 

Steve had fallen silent after mentioning his father, and it was one thing Jim couldn’t piece together. Maybe he shouldn’t yet.

The words put themselves into the air before he had chosen to speak.

“After my dad left, my mother, she… she was always trying to make sure I didn’t allow myself to take the blame for it.”

Oh no. No, no, no. The honesty, the truthful way Steve had spoken had done something to him. But now, now that he’d started, Jim couldn’t make himself stop.

“Maybe I did, in the beginning. Not anymore, not for the longest time. He could drop dead right now and I wouldn’t care. It's just… that somehow, I felt like I couldn’t let _her_ feel like that either. So I did what I could only do. I helped, with cleaning, and with the house. I learned to cook, and found out I really, _really_ liked it. It was beneficial too, because honest to god she can’t even cook an egg.” 

Jim was drawn out of the moment by a small chuckle. Steve had covered his mouth in an attempt to stop, but the smile underneath was unmistakable.  
He blinked, wiping at the corner of his eye with a thumb. “It’s okay to laugh. It’s some kind of a running joke, I guess.” 

The feeling that had been deep in his chest rose, forming a warm sense up in his heart. It swarmed, flooding through his fingertips and seemed to circulate through his whole body. Becoming almost overwhelmed by it, Jim crossed his arms, falling back against the leather booth.

“Agh, I’m sorry. You came here for answers, and I’ve barely given you any.”

Taking a deep breath, Steve sighed, shaking his head. “Its okay. It's one of those things that are difficult to talk about, right?”

“Mmm… yes, but,” In a swift move, he found the now noticeable weight in his jacket pocket, placing the faintly glowing amulet onto the table. “You deserve to know.”

Unknowing to Jim, nor Steve, the amulet made the smallest tick. 

Whatever they did now, Steve Palchuk was in headfirst to a whole new world. 

He just hoped Jim wouldn’t let him drown in it.


	5. The Start of Something New

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sneaking back into your home and accidentally introducing your friend to another friend. Whoops!

“C’mon, we’ve gotta go around back.”

Steve’s eyes just reached above the wood fence, drawing back to the ground to face Jim. A bad feeling crept in, like the stagnant chill of a freezer.

“Do we really have to go in through the back? Can’t we just go in through the, oh what was it? Oh, the _front_ _door?”_

The cracks of light through the fence lit up a stern expression on Jim’s face. It was oddly adorable. “No, because my mom is going to be home any minute. And I really don’t want to have  _ that _ conversation!”

Grumbling to himself, Steve cupped his hands into a step, and nodded upwards. “Up you go, Lake.”

The trollhunter was halfway up the wall when he said, “You know, you can call me Jim. Lake is kinda. I don’t know, it’s weird to be called that, I guess.”

“Oh…” Hearing the thud of sneakers on the backyard grass, Steve hoisted himself up. “I guess, I guess it was a way of not making it personal.”

Jim didn’t reply, instead weaving around the boulders in his yard, and making it over to the backdoor. He heard a muttered swear before Steve reached the window and saw the problem.

Seems Dr. Lake had just got home. If anything, they would have to wait until she left the room, or face the possibility of their cover being blown.

He was about to say something snarky before a click, whoosh, and a window into the basement was opened.

“Huh. Now, _something_ tells me you do this a lot.”  
“Hardy-har-har. Lemme just check and make sure its safe first.”

“...safe from  _ what _ ?”

Jim’s answer was too quiet, but the look on his face before descending didn’t make it any better. Slipping down through the window and leaving Steve to wait nearby, it took a few moments (and some hushed tones) before he heard Jim’s voice again. 

“Sweet mother of jesus, if I break a bone getting down there-” With a quick motion, he landed ungracefully onto the floor of the basement. 

A smushed hammock blanket being his landing spot, breath knocked out of his lungs, it took a moment to finally see that a large blue creature was also in the basement. It was upside down, but Steve could still make out the horns from its head, and how it towered over him.   
Oh. Right. Steve had yet to meet any of the trolls that Jim claimed to fight against. 

Before Steve had more than two seconds to react, the sound of a door clicking open made all three basement inhabitants freeze. Jim quickly motioned to the troll, and booked over to the stairs. 

Steve was about to roll off and hide behind the boxes, but large stony hands grabbed him by the torso, muffling his surprised yelp. Cornering under the stairs with one hand holding him close and the other kept over his mouth, there wasn’t much they could do except listen to the Trollhunter talk to their visitor.

Creaky steps. Dust made Steve want to sneeze. 

_ “Ji-Oh, there you are! I was beginning to think you weren’t here!” _

He recognized that voice. It’d been a really long time of course, but Steve knew it nonetheless. Leaning forward, Steve tried to catch a glimpse before being pulled roughly back. Tempted to elbow the guy, before remembering the stone skin part, Jim’s voice piped up.

_ “Yeah! I was just looking for something! It wasn’t down there though, ha ha!” _

With how his heart was beating, it took a moment for the thrumming, the deep rooted buzzing that took over everything else in quiet reclamation, to be recognized. Steve felt it, from the tip of his toes to the edge of his ears. 

_ “Oh? Well, if you’d like some help-” _ A creak closer, before more shuffling.

_ “It! Wasn’t  _ **_that_ ** _ important! I’ll look tomorrow.” _

The voices got distant, and Steve heard a quiet,  _ “Well, if you’re sure-” _ before the light of upstairs and the humans above faded away.

He must’ve been imagining it.

Good plan, Jim; Leaving Steve in the arms of a troll. In the dark basement. 

_ “Hey buddy. I’m still here.”  _ Steve, muffled, tapped on the underside of the troll’s chin. The hands finally set him down, and the only real light was the hazy red orange glow from the furnace. That, and the shine that bounced from the dozens of crystals and quartzes running along the troll’s skin. Also the eyes. The eyes glow in the dark. How fitting.

“Uh. Hi. Don’t know if Jim’s mentioned me?”

“Considering you are even here? What do  _ you _ think?”

Steve wanted to make a sarcastic reply, he really did. But the energy to snap one out wasn’t there- there was just something about the large troll that was too familiar. It threw him off, and that was already unpleasant as hell.

“Listen, I’ll cut to the chase. Jim’s been getting hurt. And he came to me to help him. I don’t want to pick a fight with…” Eyes drifted to the metallic scars that burned in the dim light, the muscles, the sneer.

“Ahem, well. I think I should really? Get back home now.”

A bullish snort was his only real reply. Steve took it for an agreement. 

-

The faint buzzing, the one he’d felt. In the basement, held close by the troll… it was persistent, but quiet. Like forgotten ghosts of people humming a lullaby in a half buried memory. 

It kept Steve up long after he drew the covers up and over. It buzzed with the alarm clock. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry the the UBER short chapter. Seasonal depression's a bitch but spring is coming...
> 
> -No warning tags


	6. My Friends Take Me To a Hole In the Ground

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trollmarket is a whole new terrain, and just the beginning for the newly established member of the Trollhunters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just for flow of chapters, (since this one got quite long) I'm splitting it up into two smaller chapters! Chapter 7 will be posted soon, there's just one or two scenes that need some more polishing.
> 
> -Some language  
> -Character death mention

Steve couldn’t tell if it was just the humidity or something else that was making his skin crawl. Last night, after pushing his vespa up the block just to be safe from being heard, even after finally- _ finally _ -going back to sleep… there was still something that kept him awake. 

Keeping himself busy was the only way to keep his mind off of it, and it was another text with weird directions that led under a somehow cold, even in the warm spring, bridge after school. Cars zoomed by overheard, making dust and rubble shift.

Delightful.

“... and that’s why Darci no longer trusts me with baking.”  
“To be honest, I wouldn’t either if you did that to me. Un-for- _givable_ , Claire.”

“It’s not like I meant to! The directions were weirdly worded!”

Toby’s voice pitched in, as the trio’s shadows reached down into the canal. “Ah yes, because baking at 350 for 45 minutes, and- oh.... you’re here?”

It wasn’t really directed at Steve, but it dug a little under his own irritation. Rolling his shoulders, he gave a signature ‘what the fuck do you mean by that’ look in the brunet’s direction.

“I  _ am _ here! Thank god someone noticed, I was so worried I would be in a  _ public place _ , and  _ not visible _ .” The odd way Toby’s nose scrunched, like he did whenever someone snarked back, was visible. Good. Steve could live with that for now.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Jim paused his search through his messenger bag. “Okay, I know we’ve had our…issues, in the past-”

“ _ Issues _ ? Ji-” Toby’s protest was cut short, Jim’s voice perhaps louder than needed. “But we are  _ trying _ to move past that. Can we just be civil, for one afternoon?”

Ouch. Steve tried to at least offer a silent apology to the brunet, but he was looking down and away. “Fine,” was the bitter response.

“Steve?”

Ah shit.

He held up a hand over his heart. “I promise.”

A visible sigh, Jim finally located whatever he was looking for in his bag. It was about the size of a large water bottle, thick crystal with a worn metal hilt. It glowed even outside of the sunlight hitting it, and the strange feeling that had been following him around buzzed, then went quiet.

“What’s that?” An earnest question, which was interrupted by Jim beginning to draw a large semicircle on the wall of the canal.

Claire appeared out of thin air next to Steve. Good god, it was scary how fast she seemed to pop up. “Secret tunnel, what else?”

“Honestly, with all the weird shit, I thought maybe it was magic sidewalk chalk.” That made her laugh though. Maybe the whole ‘making friends with Jim’s friends’ thing wouldn’t be too bad. Toby would remain a mystery to him though, as he hovered not far from Jim’s side.

But with the way he and Domzalski had ‘past issues’, as Jim put it, it felt like that would take a lifetime to get to a more agreeable plane.

Tapping in the center of the freshly drawn half circle with the end of the horngazel, stones cracked. Tumbling away in a wash of blue vapors not unlike the armor, until a dark pit of inky black awaited them.

Without another word, Toby stepped through, disappearing from view quickly. Steve was a second away from asking if he was still there when a brilliant glow erupted, now lighting up a cool illuminated path. 

All this magic and trolls and crazy caverns, it made him feel like wiping static off of an old tv set. Steve couldn’t decide if it was unsettling, or  _ inviting _ .

“Hey! You coming?” Claire’s voice trailed from beyond the doorway, her shoes making funny sounds on top of the crystals. Jim, having put the horngazel back into his bag, waved him in.

“C’mon. First time going in is always the weirdest, but you get used to it.”

It was funny. No matter how much he felt he should, to follow, his feet stayed just on the edge. Something made him grip onto his backpack a little tighter.

Toby’s voice echoed far away. “ _ Is he coming? _ ”

Steve’s reply was cut off as Jim shouted back. “We’re coming!” Turning back to the blond, Jim offered a hand. Just his fingertips hit sunlight, and Steve found his hand hovering in front of it.

“You’re coming, right?”

Gulping, Steve grabbed tight, pulled in before he heard what he assumed was the portal closing back up, and darkness wrapped around them like a thick blanket. At least until it didn’t.

The faint blue glow he saw before was stronger, brighter than he could imagine a crystal could do. A staircase made of spiralling gems went down, down. down, towards a large doorway he assumed was their destination. Claire and Toby were about half a ‘flight’ ahead, leaving Jim to start down the path, leading an awestruck Steve behind him.

“It’s cool, right?” Jim jumped from one large stone, off another, and landed on a circular facet. Dangerously close to the edge, but the way he was able to do it made it seem like he’d been down this path a thousand times. He probably had.

“It's….well. I don’t have words.”

An echo bounced off the walls, coming from Claire. “It’s also great for  _ acoustiiiiiiiics!” _

_ “ECHO!”  _

_ …...cho………...cho…….cho _

Steve couldn’t help himself. Something about a large cave made just about anyone want to yell and hear the bouncing of syllables.

_ “FUCK!”  _

….... _ uck………..uck…….uck….. _

He heard the sharp yelp, but Toby seemed to be fine. It almost seemed like from the distance, but it felt like a challenge, the way Toby gave him a look. A very  _ specific _ look.

And for once, he was really okay with complying with him.

A deep breath, and he heard the beginning of Jim catching on with an, “Oh no-”, but it was much too late.

_ “BITCH!” _

_“SHIT!”_ _  
_ _“MOTHERFUCKER!”_

_ “ASS!” _

_ “SON OF A BITCH!” _

Oh, he could HEAR the eyeroll he earned from Jim, but the reverb of human curses shouted back at them, and for a moment, Steve was laughing  _ hard _ , and quickly following was Toby.

Claire’s voice broke the laughter. “ _ Seriously _ ?” Both teens looked between her and each other, a pleased sigh from Jim, before she broke into a wild grin.

“THIS is how you do it!”

She gulped down a large breath, stood near the edge of a greenish crystal, and at the top of her lungs, shouted a very loud and clear,  _ “ _ **_TIDDIES_ ** _!” _

It seemed to echo on for longer than it should, but it was interrupted from the fits of laughter from the three teens. Even the beforehand ‘stoic’ Jim was having troubles holding in high pitched giggles. A few minutes passed before they were able to at least walk upright without having to stop and appreciate the absurdity of the cavern’s new game. 

* * *

By then, they had reached about two thirds of the way down before the reality of everything fell back down on Steve once more; no matter what magical shit would try and hurt him, hurt Jim or Claire, or even Toby as well, he was going to be a part of it. That fact solidified the moment he set foot on those first crystals, and as they reached the final steps, the static feeling crawled further up his arms.

“It never gets old.” He heard Toby remark, Claire nodding as he and the blue clad trollhunter stepped down. Jim must’ve tripped on a last step, sliding forward, but Steve was there, grabbing hold onto the back of his jacket. 

Readjusting his stance, Jim nodded, grateful. “Thanks.”

“No, uh-no problem!” He heard a short sound from Toby, didn’t think much of it, but Claire elbowed him.

What really drew his attention though, was the bright lights flickering through the stone doorway, even stronger than the crystal staircase. Rich oranges, purples and teals burst out of any and every crevice, only to be dwarfed by the gargantuan stone that stood, a miniature sun of a monolith. Even from such a distance away, the air felt warmer, calmer. Whatever effect it had, it released a little more tension out of his shoulders each moment.

Jim stood close behind. “Pretty cool, right? Welcome to Trollmarket.”

* * *

The trek throughout Trollmarket and towards the Hero’s Forge was twisted, curling around corners and market stalls with no real form or construct. Everything had a feeling like whatever family or merchant had just grabbed what space available, and set up shop, no questions asked. 

He watched out for supposed gnomes, as Toby warned him, shooing a scuttling thing away before he could get a good glimpse. Sometimes a troll would spare a questioning glare, but Steve had to assume that they’d gotten used to a human Trollhunter and team, if only enough to not notice a fourth, to which the other three formed a semi circle around. Maybe to soften a blow, who knows.

It wasn’t long before a large arch of a doorway opened up, a stone walkway that overlooked a deep and dark abyss led them all to a sort of open coliseum. More doorways led to storage of the defensive kind- he didn’t get much of a glance, but he saw at least a few bladed or blunt items that he’d prefer not to meet.

Turning sharply to a loud thud, Steve had to suppress his displeasure, turning to just a grimace as he saw the source of the sound: the same large blue troll that had been in Jim’s basement. Wonderful.

“Hey- where are Blinky and AAARRRGGHH!!! ? I thought we agreed to meet in the Forge today?”

Blue Troll hefted whatever weapon was in his arms (maybe a battering ram?) and jutted his chin back towards the large entrance. “Something about ‘last minute materials’?”

Toby nodded. “Sounds about right.”

Steve was grateful for Claire, leaning over to whisper, “Blinky can tend to get a little overzealous with his ‘last minute materials’.”

“How overzealous are we talking?”

Her unguarded expression, lasting for just a moment, told him that the other trolls may be a while. Apparently, Jim picked up on this as well, heading towards the stone walkway.

“I’ll be back in a minute. Don’t kill each other while I’m gone!”

Claire nudged Steve in the arm. “No promises!”

“Aw, just as I was getting close to the blade shelf. Darn.” Toby melodramatically snapped his fingers, earning an ‘I’m watching’ gesture from a disappearing Trollhunter.

A new sense of unsettled nerves washed over him as he looked around at the various statues. Apparently Jim’s predecessors, staged in death and in various states of emotion. Some stuck in eternal battle, a few almost chillingly serene, clearly accepting their end. A fairly new looking statue towards the left of the arena caught his attention. 

Wide shoulders, thick symmetrical horns poking out of their helmet. Holding Jim’s sword-no,  _ the _ sword, he was learning- like he was posing for a painting. Creepily the thought came in of what on earth the trolls would do for Jim when he- 

The thought was broken off by a sudden presence next to him. “I see the fleshbag let you in.”

Ah boy. “Fleshbag?”

That drew a snort, though Steve thought he saw a hint of a smug smile. “That’s what you are, are you not?”

He hummed before looking back up at the troll. Steve was short a few inches of being eye to eye even with him bending down, a reminder of just how out of place he felt.

“Hilarious, mm, yes. Totally. What do I call you then? Quartz-y?”

A look of befuddlement crossed over the troll’s face. It was amusing.

“No. That would be incorrect.”

Steve raised a single brow. “Well, it’s better than nothing, considering I don’t even know your name.”

Now the troll straightened up, horns making him seem twice as tall, three times as high as Steve. “Draal the Deadly.” 

“Does everyone have weirdly specific names?”

Draal nodded, ignoring the sarcasm. “It’s a part of who we are. What we want to be, sometimes.” A thick eyebrow raised up, looking Steve up and down. 

“Oh- Steve. I’m Steve.”

The troll let the name sink in. “And no title, like the others?”

“None that I’m aware of.” Steve shrugged, but it raised a question. What kind of title would he even have? Something he did? Nothing felt important enough to make a part of an introduction, and no immediate words popped up as a descriptor. 

Instead, he shook his head to clear the thoughts, gesturing up to the past Trollhunter he has been looking up at, and now he saw, so was Draal.

“Who was he?”

A momentary pause. Draal’s features softened; he didn’t know how, but they did. “That is Kanjigar, the Courageous. He was the Trollhunter for many years before Master Jim,  _ centuries _ .”

Steve swallowed, having trouble imagining the kind of life one would lead for centuries of fighting and peace-making and trouble-soothing. His own life of such felt incredibly small in comparison.

“Did you know him?”

The moment he asked, it felt like he hit a nerve, though Draal didn’t react besides looking straight into Steve’s eyes. Draal looked a little lost for words, but he answered with summoned pride. 

“He’s my father.”

* * *

“Now, Steven-”  
_“Steve.”_

“Right, apologies.” One of Blinky’s eyes kept steady on him, as they had been since Steve entered the same room as the historian troll. “Master Jim told me you are quite the healer, correct?”

Shrugging under the spotlight, he pointed a thumb to the aforementioned Trollhunter. “If that’s what he said, I guess I’m your guy.”

Blinky nodded, continuing with a flourish. “Seeing as our knowledge of human remedies and biology is limited, to be blunt, you will fill a position dearly needed. But seeing as you, along with your human friends, AAARRRGGHH!!! and I will accompany Master Jim throughout his journey, there will be many things you need to learn alongside your medical expertise.”  
“I-uh…” _Expertise?_ That wouldn’t be the word he’d use. The most he knew of was just survival: if you couldn’t pop your shoulder back into place, bandage something to stop the blood, set a bone so it could grow back- granted, he was probably a little young to know this all, but it was still such a small amount of usefulness. “...like what?”

“Oh, basic fighting techniques, weaknesses among different trolls, how to avoid a long suffering death to name a few.”

Steve elbowed Jim next to him. “Just standard procedure, right?” Jim nodded, crossing his arms, deep in thought as he turned back to a different conversation with Toby. Claire offered a sympathetic glance; she had only a few weeks experience on top of him, and she learned quickly, already pretty capable. 

The next thing to come out of Blinky’s beginning of a ramble caught his attention: “-and you’ll have to be paired with some form of a weapon, most likely-”

“Weapon?”

Blinky nodded, a little miffed at the interruption. “Indeed. Both Tobias and Claire have paired with their own Trollish weapons, Master Jim with the Amulet. It’s only natural we even out the playing field for inevitable confrontation.”

Now when most guys were offered a chance at a weapon of their own, steel or blade or otherwise, they would probably jump at the chance. But wasn’t his whole role in this to do the opposite? To not cause harm? He was trying not to, at least.

“Blinky, right? I- I’m sorry, but I don’t think there’d be many weapons that would fit a ‘healer’.”

The troll raised a hand in a lecturer’s pose. “Ah, but that is our mission for you! To find something that will work among your own capabilities and still benefit your role! Now, do you prefer staffs or blunt weapons? I personally have always had a fascination for the long range ‘bazooka’ but those are incredibly hard to come by.”

“Uhh...probably not that.”

“Fair point, they aren’t much of a ‘starter’ weapon. Hmmm… I may need to have you and Draal meet. He is quite-”

“Trust me.” Steve crossed his arms as he recalled the strange interaction in the Forge. “We’ve met.”

The behemoth of a troll named AAARRRGGHH!!! grumbled next to him. “Maybe need different weapon.” Maybe it was imagination, but the way he emphasized on ‘different’ must’ve meant something else to Blinky.

“Perhaps so.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time with Bandaids: Steve receives his weapon, the promise of training, and soon, the start of the hunt for the Triumbric Stones...


End file.
